Poet and Peasant
by Lost-Blue-Phantom
Summary: There's such a difference between what we used to know, and what we have come to know. DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

**A/N: And I'm back with a new Warriors' fanfiction, Poet and Peasant. Quickly, I want to thank my beta for the prologue, Queen Annnie-Ferny Cullen, as well as everyone who helped me write this idea. You guys know who you are, so you don't really need to be mentioned. I love you guys!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. I don't think I'd do very well with it. I also don't own the title, Poet and Peasant. Poet and Peasant was an overture written by Franz von Suppe in 1869, I think. **

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Briar bounded into the elders' den, his tabby fur puffed out to shield him against the cold. In his mouth was a small vole, which wasn't abnormal for this type of year. "Hello," he mewed through a mouth full of vole. Two of the elders simply nodded at him before going back to sleep.

"Hello, Briar." A raspy voice from the back of the den sounded as yellow eyes lit up in the darkness. "Is that for me?" In reply, the small tabby tom placed the vole at her paws. "I take it you want a story?" Briar nodded eagerly.

"I can't believe you'd start without me!" A high-pitched yowl sounded from the mouth of the den. The two sleeping elders opened their eyes and glared at the disturbance. A tortoiseshell kit stood,at the mouth of the den,green eyes glaring at her brother. "Briar, I can't believe you'd start without me! Moth said that, if we were going to get a story, we were supposed to go together! Whisper, you wouldn't let him start with out me, would you?" The she-cat's eyes were pleading.

"Of course not, Rose," the old she-cat purred. Rose came into the den, ignoring the glare from the other two elders. "Now, what story do you want to hear today?" The old she-cat smiled. The two kits would instantly begin arguing about the story they wanted to hear. It was the same routine, over and over, but Whisper didn't mind.

"Let's hear one about Firestar," Briar mewed. His sister rolled her eyes. "What?" Briar demanded. "What's so wrong with a story about Firestar?" _This_ was why he had snuck into the elder's den without telling his sister. He loved hearing stories about Firestar, one of the noblest cats in the forest; his sister hated Firestar, saying that there was no cat in the forest that was that good at being a leader.

Rose tucked her paws underneath her, preparing for the longest, most boring story she would ever hear. She used to love stories of the mythical hero, Firestar, but now . . . she felt like she had heard them all. It was all because of Briar. He was obsessed with the ginger tom. She loved hearing about the struggles other cats faced. She figured that maybe, the world used to revolve around Firestar, if he ever existed, and that's why there were so many stories about him. She loved hearing about Mistystar, the leader that had lived for one moon, or the times way before Firestar.

"Firestar may be a bit boring for you, Rose," Whisper mewed, containing the amusement in her voice. Briar looked to Whisper, asking for some help, and Rose looked triumphant. "And, hmm . . . you're both a bit young to hear about the Purge. That story is usually saved for apprentices." Both kits open their mouths to protest, as they were both almost six moons old, but Whisper signaled with her tail for silence. "How about the story of the Great Journey?"

"We've heard that one a thousand times," Briar mewed. His sister glared at him. He thought the stories about the Great Journey were boring; it was just a bunch of cats traveling, nothing really that special. His sister loved hearing about the cats that struggled through the mountains. He was convinced his sister enjoyed the pain of others. "Tell us something we've never heard before!"

"Why can't we listen to a story about the Great Journey?" Rose demanded, leaping to her paws. This was _so_ like her brother. Next time, she would come alone.

"Because you wouldn't let me listen to a story about Firestar," Briar retorted. He would make sure that, the next time he came to the elders' den, he would come alone._ Knowing Briar and Rose, they would come at the same time, with the intention of coming alone, and this entire fiasco would start again. _Whisper thought.

"Firestar is so boring!" Rose mewed loudly, rolling her green eyes again. She did that a lot. "We already know he's saved the forest a thousand times! It's like no one has saved the forest before him."

"Oh, please. At least he's more interesting than a bunch of wandering cats." Briar hissed a retort. The siblings were soon standing face-to-face, heads squashed against one another and ears pinned back. Whisper sighed. It never changed. Sometimes it was amusing, other times it was annoying. Right now, it was annoying.

"Why don't I tell you a story that my mother told me when I was a kit?" Whisper asked loudly over the two arguing kits. Briar and Rose turned to stare curiously at her. "You'd be the first to hear this story." Excited by the prospect, both kits sat quietly in front of her; she closed her eyes for a moment, recalling the days of her kithood, curling up next to her mother, begging for a story.

"Whisper? Are you dead?" Rose whispered, bringing Whisper out of her reminiscing. Whisper opened her eyes. "You were about to tell us a story. The story no one had ever heard before? Except for when your mother told you?"

"Oh, yes. Now, let me tell you the story of Poet and Peasant." Whisper began, remembering how her mother would tell it. "This story happened not that long ago." In actuality, it did. Whisper was reciting the tale, word for word, exactly how her mother had told it to her. "Well, long ago for you," Whisper added, deciding that she would have to alter the story a tad. "According to my mother, this tale happened shortly before I was born."

"That must've been seasons and seasons ago," Briar joked. Rose sent him a silencing glare, wanting absolutely nothing to jeopardize her chances of hearing the story. "Sorry, Whisper," he mewed. "Continue, please? Who were Poet and Peasant?" The tabby tom's amber eyes glowed, and Rose's green eyes glowed with him. The old she-cat had never seen the kits so agreed on one thing.

"I'm getting there," Whisper mewed irritably. "This story starts out with two ShadowClan kits, on the day of their apprentice ceremony."

"Like us!" Rose mewed excitedly. "Except, we're not apprentices." It was Briar's turn to glare at his sister, for the exact same reason she had just been glaring at him, merely moments ago. "Sorry," she mewed quietly.

"As I was saying, this story starts out with two ShadowClan kits, on the day of their apprentice ceremony," Whisper began. "It was not yet dawn when. . ."

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**That's the end of the prologue. It was REALLY short. So, uhh, have a nice day! **

**12.24.08 EDIT: This is the new prologue. Some people noted that there was a little too much tell going on in the original prologue, so I reworked it a little bit. I hope this improves the hook of the story. This prologue actually ties in better with the epilogue, and you'll see why when I get there. Whenever that is. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, the first real chapter of Poet and Peasant. Enjoy, because this is awesome. Anyway, I'd like to thank my betas, Queen Annie-Ferny Cullen and Kyota-chan, for agreeing to cobeta, and deal with my annoying mistakes. **

**Review Replies:**

**Wild Ninja Paige: Probably not. I can't say for sure, because there would be spoilers involved.**

**Shattering: That's what I was going for. The prologue was supposed to be dissonant and strange. I was experimenting with a different writing style for the prologue. **

**bluesskiesahead: Well, here is that more!**

**Hope, your name is too long to type out: Yeah, I just felt like I had to blatantly address the stereotypes. **

**Kelly: My shortest review! xDDD Thanks, Kells.**

**Jenny: Does it? Cuz, it's not supposed to be. And I know what you mean. Hopefully this chapter has a little more 'show'. **

**Breezeh: I deal a lot with corruption, don't I?**

**Aleckette: Thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. Seriously, who would want to?**

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"Poet?" A paw prodded my side. I let out a small groan, not wanting to open my eyes just yet. Just a few more moments, and then I would get up. I nestled my head on my paws again. "Poet?" the voice asked more urgently, prodding me harder in the side.

"Go away," I grumbled, opening one eye. As I suspected, the sun hadn't peaked over the tops of the trees. It was just near dawn. "The sun hasn't risen yet, so why should I?" Storm was standing over me, his gray fur puffed out against the cold, his calm blue eyes regarding me with a teasing stare.

"You know the rules," he told me sternly, prodding me again with his paw. "All kits must be up before sunrise on the day of their apprentice ceremony." That's right. Today was our apprentice ceremony. Still, I didn't want to move. Something kept me bound to my nest, unmoving. Storm began to whine, "I can't be the best warrior in the forest without you!"

"I know that, you stupid furball," I growled, pushing myself onto my paws. I glared at him. Sure, we had to get up earlier, but a few more moments, and no one would've noticed. "And what was that for? I was already awake!" I snapped.

"Prodding you is fun?" he asked innocently, his blue eyes glowing brightly. His name was Storm, but I had no idea why. He should've been Cloud, or Drizzle, or something like that, because he was so goofy, sweet, and light-hearted. He had been my only friend from the time I could open my eyes. We were born a few nights apart; I had been born after him, and our mothers weren't really close friends. After Sky was killed in the rebellion, Storm spent a lot more time with my mother and me. He was my partner in crime, practically my brother.

"Fun for you, maybe," I countered, walking out of the den with him. A few stars in Silverpelt were still hanging over us, as if waiting for the sun to burn them out of the night sky. His gray pelt brushed against my brown tabby pelt, as if in a sign of comfort. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"What are you talking about?" he said nervously, staring in the opposite direction. "Nothing's wrong." I narrowed my eyes at him. Of course nothing was wrong. He always brushed his pelt against mine when he was nervous, and then he tried to play it cool. The nerve of some toms! "Who do you think we're going to get as a mentor?" he asked me.

I knew he was trying to distract me, but I had to go along with it. I began to think. Who said we were even going to get to train together? It was just his wishful thinking, as usual. "Well, definitely not Rain." Rain was my mother. "Falcon already has three apprentices, and so does Glimmer. Ravage has two apprentices. Lightning is the deputy, so maybe she might. And Scorched is leader; there's no way he would mentor us." We had five warriors in our clan, a leader, and a deputy; I was missing someone. Then, I remembered. I lowered my voice. "Between you and me, Oak isn't meant long for this world." He looked at me, tilting his head to one side. Then he remembered, too, and solemnly bowed his head.

Oak had been one of the prettiest cats in the clan, but that seemed to be her only redeeming quality. After ThunderClan (out of all the Clans that tried to take our territory, ha) battled us, Oak was left with a permanent limp that seemed to be getting worse. Rose, our medicine cat, tried to help Oak heal, but the treatment had not been working. Everyone knew that the weaker cats were left to die somewhere. It was a sad reality, but how else were we supposed to survive? The threat of WindClan was growing stronger; ThunderClan could be wiped out soon, and you never knew what went on with the flea-bitten RiverClan cats. This was the life by the lakeside. We all had to get adjusted; otherwise, we'd never survive. I didn't want to become one of those weak cats that were left for dead. No. There was no way I was going to be one of those cats. I want to be a great warrior. Not the best, but a great warrior. Storm and I were going to do that together, as we had done nearly everything together since the moment we were born.

My thoughts were disrupted as Scorched emerged from his den. He gave us a nod of approval before tucking his tail neatly around his paws. He was waiting for Lightning to come out of the warriors' den. They would then briefly discuss who we should get as mentors before calling the rest of the Clan. Perhaps Rock and Leaf would get their acceptance into the warrior rank today. It was Clan life any way you looked at it, and today was my first step fitting into that life.

Storm was practically bouncing on his paws, eyes fixed on the warriors' den, just waiting for the creamy she-cat's head to emerge. I tried to copy Scorched's calmness and wrapped my tail over my paws, trying to keep a nonchalant air. I could almost see the smoky tom smiling at me, his eyes holding an unreadable message. In the next moment, the smile had faded, and his stony look was back. In the gray light of dawn, Scorched looked like a cat that had been turned completely into stone. Perhaps I imagined his smile in the first place.

The gray tom got up from his spot in the shadows and slowly padded over to us. Storm was so fixated on the warriors' den that he didn't even notice our leader approaching us. I stared at him with obedient-looking eyes. I was trying to impress him, naturally. If you could get on Scorched's good side before even saying a word, you were in business. He opened his mouth to speak.

* * *

Where was she? Lightning was a very punctual she-cat, and I couldn't suppress my excitement any longer. If I did, I would surely burst. "First lesson you must learn, Storm. All apprentices must hold their tongues and excitement," A voice sounded behind me that broke my concentration, and scared me out of my wits. The gray tom had an amused look to his bright yellow eyes, and his whiskers, that I had never seen move, were now twitching with amusement.

"Scorched!" I nearly gasped, stopping my hopping around at once. I sat down, straightened up my back, and bowed my head; Poet sat there, her shoulders shaking with the laughter she was surely holding in. I couldn't glare at her, not with Scorched standing in the way. Respectfully bowing my head, I murmured, "Sorry, sir. I guess I'm excited."

At this, Poet began to snicker, and Scorched let out a hearty laugh. My ears perked up in surprise. No one had ever heard Scorched laugh before. At least, no one had told me Scorched had laughed before. I wasn't sure whether to laugh along with him or glare at Poet for laughing at me, so I stared at my paws.

"It's natural to be excited," he mewed. "Just remembered to hold that excitement in." A peculiar gleam entered his eyes, and for a moment, I wondered if that was worry I saw in them. He was worried about me? This began to make me slightly nervous, but I had to show that I wasn't afraid. Only weak ones were afraid. I couldn't be weak. Finally, I saw Lightning leave the den, only for Scorched to say, "I've made up my mind. These two need no discussion." I was surprised. He already knew who our mentors were going to be? Surely Lightning wanted to be a part of this discussion; otherwise, the entire system would fail.

Immediately, I saw Lightning giving him a questioning look, and he shook his head. She then jerked her head in my direction, and Scorched's face became like stone. I shivered at the look in the leader's face. Lightning didn't shiver, but a look of malcontent formed on her face. "What was that about?" I muttered under my breath. Scorched whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes. It was almost like I shrunk under his gaze. Poet shrugged, her eyes wide with an emotion I couldn't place. They were a lot alike, Poet and Scorched. Or at least in that moment, they never seemed more similar.

"Wait at the camp entrance," Lightning told us. "You know what the signal is, I assume?" I had no idea what the signal was. I hoped it would be something extremely obvious. I nodded, and Poet's nod was slightly delayed. We padded over to the entrance of the camp. Poet went to the right side of the entrance, and I went to the left, as tradition dictated. Poet's gaze seemed saddened, as if something was on her mind. I wanted to pad over to her and ask her what was wrong, but I couldn't. Dawn had fully risen over the treetops, lighting up her brown tabby pelt, making her golden eyes shine.

A resounding yowl made its way through the trees. I recognized it as Scorched's, and I saw a gray blur leap on to the tree branch. Lightning was at her place at the tree trunk. "Cats of ShadowClan!" he yowled. "Come forth from your dens!" Rose padded out of the medicine cat den, while Bark, her apprentice followed suit. I could see light brown fur that surely resembled Oak limping out of the den. The black shape of Ravaged was first to leave the warriors' den, followed by Glimmer's white pelt and Falcon's brown one. Rain emerged from the nursery, as well. Rock, Leaf, Bird, Song, and Shallow all emerged from the apprentices' den. There were a few apprentices missing. I narrowed my eyes. Grass, Red, and Stream were missing. "I have news for you!" Scorched's yowl brought me out of my thoughts. "Grass, Red, and Stream are no longer with us."

"Why?" Rain and Glimmer hissed. Rain was also the mother of Stream, Red was my older brother, and Grass was Glimmer's only daughter. "Surely they weren't weak!" Scorched nodded. I frowned. My brother was weak? An unseen cloud loomed over me. If Red was weak, then the Clan was expecting me to fail, too. We had come from the same bloodline. There was already more pressure on me than I had intended. No cat uttered a word after Rain and Glimmer fell silent. They knew that there was no fighting it. Those three cats were already dead.

"It has also come to my attention that Rock and Leaf are ready for their warrior status," Scorched mewed impatiently. Rock and Leaf both sat taller, their faces nonchalant. Rock was Poet's brother (and also the brother of Grass), and Leaf was Lightning's daughter. In the Clan, kits didn't know who their father was; they only knew their mothers. If two cats shared the same mother, they were siblings. "They will go out in their day-long vigil, now. If they are back at dawn tomorrow, they shall be granted their warrior status." A "day-long vigil" was basically a patrol of the borders of ShadowClan all day long. They weren't allowed to hunt, eat, talk, or sleep. The only time vigil could be broken was if we were being attacked. "StarClan be with you both." The two cats nodded and rushed past us. Rock stopped for a moment before briefly touching his nose to Poet's ear and her nose against his muzzle, a silent "Good luck!" exchanged between siblings. The gray tabby darted out of camp while our gazes were fixed on Scorched.

"It is time for two kits to receive their apprentice status," Scorched mewed once they were gone. "Poet and Storm, come forward." Ah, so that was the signal. She padded over from the right side, and I padded over from the left side, until we met in the middle of the clearing. We walked to the tree, side by side, and sat down together, our eyes fixated on Scorched. _That was pretty good, especially because we've never done this before._ "Poet and Storm, you have reached the age of eight moons, and it is now time for you to get your apprentice rank. This means you will train, and if you are found weak, you will be killed." I tried not to think of Red as he said this. "Your mentor will guide you, training you both."

"Who will that be?" I muttered under my breath. Lightning was looking very discontented, because she, like the rest of us, didn't know who our mentors would be.

"I will be that mentor to guide you on this path," Scorched finished.

_What_? In my unseen cloud, the thunder began to rumble.

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**Poor Storm. So much pressure. Poet seems to be chill. But then again, that last half of the chapter wasn't in her perspective, so who KNOWS how she's feeling? **


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: Oh mai gawsh. Can it be? An update of P&P? Yes! Yes, it is an update of P&P. It's been so long, I think you might want to read the revamped prologue (yes, I redid the prologue) and the previous chapter. Are you all caught up? Good. If you're not, I highly recommend that you are. I thank my beta, Annie for looking over this chapter! **

**Reviewer replies: **

**Hopa: I miss you. :( Anyway, Scorched is training them for a different reason, and you'll find out what that reason is much, much later. Like, much later.**

**Kellz: Thank you, Kelly.**

**Paige: :( I miss you, too. The reason they know what a Poet is . . . is explained in this chapter, but if you don't get it, I don't mind explaining it again.**

**bluesskiesahead: That 'ha' was a sound of laughter. XDD**

**Annie-la: Didn't I tell you that Scorched was going to be their mentor? No, wait, that was something else. **

**Sig: Thank you very much.**

**Golde: You're too kind. No seriously, you're too kind.**

**Toph (chapter 1): I changed the entire prologue completely, to leave all the tell out of it, but the varied vocabulary and sentence structure remains.**

**Toph (chapter 2): Telling which P.O.V it is has also been eliminated. And I think this chapter, in terms of shining moments, has a lot more of them. But that would be taking the newer prologue into context.**

**Starfall: Oh yeah, it should've been. I think I changed that. Thanks for pointing it out, though.**

**Aleckette: Yeah, I kind of forgot about this fic too. Whoops. I like Scorched too. I think he's awesome. But, there's another character who is even awesome-er, who hasn't debuted yet. **

**Puppet: -beams- Thank you very much. That's very kind of you to say so. **

**The Cinderninja: Thank you very much for saying.**

**Disclaimer: -checks- Nope, still don't own Warriors. **

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I couldn't even think straight. Scorched was our mentor? Scorched hadn't had an apprentice in_ seasons_. If I could, I'd leap up for joy. However, I'd make a complete fool of myself if I did that. Still, I lashed my tail eagerly, as a sign of my excitement. Older warriors around me purred, but my eyes were focused on Storm. There was something about him that told me one thing: he was troubled. He was panicking. I'd recognize that look on his face anywhere.

His head was bowed, and even though we were sitting, I could tell that his tail was drooping. I scoffed silently. How could he be upset about this? This had to be the best that could possibly happen to us. Rain looked extremely proud of both of us, though I could see the glint of worry behind her eyes. Her gaze had been fixated on Storm before it moved up toward Scorched. I sighed. Of course her only concern was for Storm. She was never proud of Rock or me. After Sky died, she put her heart and soul into making sure that Storm didn't go insane on us. He was my best friend, so I tried not to mind. Still, it was annoying to have your own mother love your best friend more than she loved you.

Scorched leapt down from the tree branch, looking at us both. Storm had raised his head at this point, and a faux gleam of excitement entered his eyes. I wanted to groan. Surely, Scorched could see through the façade? I turned my eyes to our leader, wanting him to say something to Storm, or at least a sign that he noticed the faux expression. If he did know anything, he didn't show it as he mewed, "Do you wish to receive your apprentice status?"

This was supposed to be the time where kits reflected on what this meant. I already knew what it meant for me. I could be out of the nursery; I could help defend my Clan, but, more importantly, I could prove to myself that I could really be an asset. That was my goal. "I do." My voice was loud and strong. I looked over, waiting to see my mother give me a warm glance and beam with pride. She didn't. Her gaze was intensely focused on Storm. Rage bubbled inside me. I was so tired of being second-best to Storm. I was going to make my mother proud. Maybe, just for once, she would notice me, instead of Storm.

"I do." Storm's voice was low, but it was filled with something that made me shiver. Anxiety? Trepidation? Anger? His gaze was unreadable, but no one seemed to notice. Scorched touched noses with me first, giving me an approving glance as he did so. With this glance came a realization-- within my own mind, at least. He wasn't going to judge us based on our siblings. He chose us because he was the only cat in the Clan who would be able to mentor us efficiently without judging us. This was our clean slate.

"StarClan, these two kits have now reached their apprentice status. If they may join you now, welcome them as apprentices and no longer as kits," Scorched yowled. The Clan bowed their heads momentarily, as if allowing StarClan a better view. "Storm and Poet, you are now apprentices; I hope you fulfill all of the requirements your mentor has set for you." We both nodded. "This meeting has come to an end!" Scorched yowled. The cats began to disperse, as sunlight filled into the clearing.

Storm padded over to me. "So, we're apprentices now, huh?" He tried to muster up some cheeriness as he spoke, though the saddened look remained in his eyes. I pressed my nose against his muzzle, trying my hardest to comfort him. "Shall we go look at the den?" He looked like he just wanted to curl up into a ball and never wake up again. I opened my mouth to comply, but Scorched padded over.

"Come," he mewed. "It is time for you to take your first steps outside of camp, and to explore the territory." I blinked. So soon? We had just been made apprentices! Still, the prospect of seeing every bit of territory excited me. I stood up and waited for Scorched to speak. Storm did the same, his eyes equally as bright, though there was something in his air that told me differently. I wish I could've read his mind and soothed the fears that plagued him. Then I realized that, even if I could read his mind and figure out what was wrong, there was nothing I could really do about it. Storm was a completely different cat. He had to solve things in the way that only he could. I just had to be there to support him in anyway that I could. We both followed Scorched out of the camp.

"Are you okay?" I asked Storm quietly. His gaze was cold and calculating, a stark contrast to the warm cheeriness they held moments before, and I took a step back.

"I'm fine," he growled. "Mind your own business, Poet." He bounded up ahead of me. I was so confused. Just a little while ago, he was prodding me in the side, trying to wake me up. Now, he was shunning me, and an air of iciness came off of him in waves. "Where are we going first, Scorched?" His voice suddenly became very excited, as it had this morning, when he was prodding me awake. I frowned in confusion.

I had no time to dwell on it, as Scorched murmured, "To the Twoleg place." Storm and I exchanged a confused glance. Still, it was a relief to me to see Storm back to his old self--even if it was just for a little while. Scorched saw our glance and mewed, "It is part of your training to know some Twoleg speak."

"Why?" Storm asked eagerly. The bounciness was definitely back, and his blue eyes began to sparkle. "What do Twolegs have to do with our training?"

"Do you know how our ancestors came to be here?" Scorched asked. We had heard the tales of the Great Journey, but then again, the tale we had been told had been from a more sheltered point of view. I shook my head, and once Storm saw that I was, he did, too.

Scorched mewed without preamble, "Twolegs were tearing up the forest with their trucks and bulldozers. Our ancestors were caught completely unaware and didn't know why. Soon, their lands were destroyed, there was no food for them, and many cats were dying. Six cats took the journey to find a badger, Midnight, and she told them that they must find a new home. This was thousands of seasons ago, hence the reason we know as much of the Twoleg speak."

"So, we must learn Twoleg language so that we won't be caught unaware and will be able to move all the cats out of the forest with minimal casualties?" I asked, taking a wild sounded the most logical answer to me, whether it was the right response or not. Scorched nodded his approval, and I beamed. Then something crossed my thoughts. "Scorched, what exactly does 'Poet' mean?" I asked, wanting to know the origin of my name.

"A poet is a Twoleg who is especially gifted in the perception and expression of the beautiful. He or she uses words to express things going on around them," Scorched mewed. I sat there, confused. I had no idea what he just explained to me. Perhaps, as time would pass, I could learn what exactly a poet was, and why that was chosen as my name. "Any more questions?" he asked us. We both shook our heads and fell into step behind him as he moved on.

I didn't talk much, instead using the opportunity to check out my surroundings. Our forest was thick with many pine trees, and it was easy to mask our scents in them. With a grin, I used the pine to slip behind Storm. When we were kits, we used to play 'Hide and Seek', and my favorite hiding spot was always right behind him. Even though I hid there every time, he still never thought to look behind him. He could've easily scented me, but that took away from the enjoyment our game produced.

He stopped short, and I grinned, knowing my plan had worked. I leapt up on Storm's back, and he tried to twist his neck around to bite at my paws. I clung onto his back before he flipped over to land on my stomach, crushing me. "Let me up!" I mewed, laughing as I said it. "Storm, that's not funny!" With a smirk, he didn't get up.

Scorched snapped, "Stop it, the pair of you!" Storm leapt up, and I got up a bit more slowly. There was certain intensity to his eyes, and I couldn't help but flinch. "You are in the forest now. You cannot run to the warmth of your mother's pelt whenever something is amiss. It is time for you to stand on your own paws. There is no such time for petty games."

"Sorry, Scorched," we both muttered at the same time. Ahead was a Twoleg garden, and a fresh cat scent was nearby. Behind the bushes, a pair of paws was seen. I unsheathed my claws in anticipation. Storm rolled his eyes at me. I tried not to feel hurt by this sudden mood swing.

"Claws away, Poet," Scorched mewed. "The cat here is no threat to us. His name is Scrubs. He means us no harm. At least, if you're with me, he means you know harm. You must keep your wits about you if you're ever here alone."

"Honestly, can't a cat get some peace and quiet around here?" growled a cat with long white fur. "All you . . . Clanners comin' in left and right. It's no wonder you're all gettin' attacked." His amber eyes took in us both as we flanked Scorched. The white cat, who I assumed to be Scrubs, leapt off of his Twoleg fence. Warily, I walked slowly toward him. He began to move to my left. I moved right, trying to keep him in my line of vision.

"Poet, watch yourself," Scorched called to me. I could barely hear him. For some reason, I was half-focused on Scrubs and half-focused on a thought that danced in my mind. Why was I constantly right, or putting myself in danger? Why wasn't Storm here? Was he too nervous, because it was our first day as apprentices? Did he think I was trying out outshine him?

Scrubs barreled into me, knocking the breath out of me. I tumbled over and rolled out of the way as Scrubs tried to pin me down. I pushed myself off of my paws and leapt at him; his claws slashed my shoulder as I landed, though the tip of my claw got his nose. We stared down each other for a moment before Scrubs let out an amused purr.

"Excuse me," Storm mewed. "But why are you purring?" I slunk back to Scorched's side as Storm took a step forward. His eyes were curious but wary. Admittedly, he seemed better prepared then I did. Scorched looked proud, as Storm kept his distance from Scrubs. I could see the concentration in Storm's eyes, as he watched Scrubs.

"Ah, the youth," Scrubs purred. "Scorched, if you're here to show them what the Twoleg language is supposed to sound like, I suppose you can come to the garden. I must warn you, though, that my housefolk aren't watching anything educational."

We leapt onto the fence, then into the garden of Scrubs' housefolk. Inside the nest, a flickering box was depicting two Twolegs exchanging words.

"What did they say?" Storm asked curiously.

"'Sir, the peasants are revolting!' That's what the first Twoleg said," Scorched mewed.

"Oh, they're watching _this_ movie again," Scrubs rolled his eyes.

"What's a 'peesant'?" Storm asked.

"Peasant," clarified Scrubs.

"The second Twoleg said, 'You said it. They stink on ice,'" Scorched finished.

"That doesn't sound very nice," Storm mewed. "And what's a 'peesent'?"

"Peasant," Scrubs corrected again.

A yowl rang out through the forest. "Silence!" Scorched demanded. Scrubs shook his head and muttered something inaudible. The yowl sounded again.

I froze, dread seeping in. "Rock," I rasped.

* * *

"Rock," Poet whispered, her eyes wide with dread. I padded over to her, touching my nose against her cheek, to let her know that I was there. She was so cold, so distracted.

Scorched immediately jumped into action. He sprang up onto the Twoleg fence before leaping back down onto the forest floor.

I raced after Scorched, and Poet seemed to reawaken and follow me. "Where are we going?" I yowled to Scorched up ahead. He stopped suddenly, and we both scrambled to stop behind him. "What's going on?" I asked, seeking answers. I hated not knowing. Not knowing things made you a step behind and unaware. Unaware could equal death.

"Be silent!" Scorched hissed. Poet had already been silent since whispering Rock's name, but I had to stem the flow of questions that were almost dying to break free. "RiverClan is approaching from Rock's position on the small Twoleg path. We will hide in the brambles near by. We cannot give our location away and give them the element of surprise."

I nodded, and Poet's look was blank. I nudged her gently, trying to let her know that I was going to be there for her, no matter what. She looked at me, and I hardly recognized the cat I was looking at. This cat had glassy eyes, glazed over with fear at the upcoming battle, and somehow, Poet seemed to shrink within herself. Her look was, for lack of a better word, dead, and it suddenly occurred to me that one of us may not come back from the battle. I shivered.

Scorched crept as low as he could in the undergrowth, and we could only follow suit. The sounds of the battle were getting louder, and it sounded like Rock wasn't alone in his fight. I could definitely hear Leaf's battle cry, as well as Ravage sending some RiverClan cats back to their territory.

"On three, Poet, you will dart to my right. Storm, you will dart to my left," Scorched mewed. I could hardly breathe. I nodded once, to show him that I had heard; Poet looked like she could barely focus on her surroundings. "One," Scorched mewed softly. I tensed my muscles in readiness. Poet still had that blank expression on her face. "Two," Scorched hissed. Poet crouched down, preparing to spring.

I'm not sure whether I should've been relieved, or concerned by the expression on her face. The blankness was gone, but there it seemed like her face was set in stone, hardened by the world around her. "Poet," I murmured." She ignored me.

"Three," Scorched mewed. I did as I was told, and darted to Scorched's left. Instantly, I was ambushed by a speckled she-cat. I was instantly pummeled with blows to my head, and I had to wonder; did Scorched really expect us to fight and _not_ die on our first time out of the nursery?

Only instinct could save me. I rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding another blow to my head. I sprung up and tore at the she-cat's shoulder. I winced in pain as she drew a claw across my belly. I pinned her down again and bit at her shoulder.

It was shortly after that that I decided I hated the taste of blood and wouldn't be trying that again anytime soon. My thought process would've gone on, had I not been bowled over by a black tom. He was bigger than I was. Much bigger.

I couldn't fight him head on; that was immediately clear to me. I could try dodging him, but that would only work for so long. He was fast too, so I couldn't try out running him. Where could his claws not get me?

His back, of course. I leapt onto his back sinking my claws in as much as I could. He hissed and yowled in pain, and I couldn't help but smirk with satisfaction. I looked around quickly. The number of RiverClan cats seemed to be smaller than before, but we were still losing. "We need to find the leader, or the deputy."

I stopped paying attention to what was going on near me, and focused a little farther off. Scorched was circling at splotchy gray she-cat. "Wisp," Scorched mewed. "I wasn't aware you were starting what WindClan had done to you. Why not get your revenge on them? You're setting such a good example for your Clan." The splotchy gray she-cat, Wisp, merely sat there, tail wrapped around her paws and amber eyes glowing with amusement.

"Between you and me?" she mewed. "Leader to leader? Well, I figured attacking ThunderClan first would be downright cruel, there's hardly a cat there to keep it a running Clan, and to exact revenge on WindClan was a little too soon, so you just happened to be the only ones left. It's not your fault--it just makes for good conquering," Wisp mewed. So she was the leader.

I was distracted by a mew for help. Poet was trapped underneath a mottled brown tom; he had his extended claws loom threateningly over her neck. Her yellow eyes were wide with fear. I wouldn't let her die. Not if I could save her from death's claws. "Poet!" I yowled as loud as I could. "I'm coming!" _Hold on, Poet. _

I bowled into the mottled tom, tearing at his fur, while allowing Poet to escape and join the fray elsewhere. Behind me, I could hear Scorched and Wisp abandon their civil chat, resorting to claw and tooth. Lightning yowled a loud cry, and soon more ShadowClan cats came to the fight.

A lithe, gray tom and Lightning immediately began to have at it. "This is good news for us," the gray tom mewed, smirking. "If one of them dies, we can continue the fight for them."

"I take you and Wisp share the same goals?" Lightning narrowly dodged the claws that were about to rake out her eyes. "Or were you the one who planted the goal in her head, Ash? After all, she doesn't trust anyone else in your pathetic Clan. Still harboring weak ones, are you?"

"You're one to talk," Ash spat. I couldn't focus on their conversation anymore, as the claw of the mottled began to sink into my throat. It stung, but then, it began to fade away, like a rolling tide of darkness. I could barely hear the rain that was falling down onto the earth. I could barely feel it. I could barely feel anything.

"Storm!" A frantic shriek rose above the din of battle. _Poet? _I thought dimly. _No, that's Rain. _"Scorched, we can't leave him!" When had the battle ended? I couldn't hear Scorched's response over the buzzing in my ears. My grip on consciousness was fading. "RiverClan won't come back! They probably have their own dead to take care of," Rain mewed again.

"Storm, wake up," Poet's whisper was right next to my ear, loud and clear over the buzzing. It was the last thing I heard, before everything faded away, before I died. Or, at least, I thought I died. Everything came back in sharper focus. I was cold, I was wet, and my wounds stung.

"He's alive!" a voice called. "Get Glass, we're going to need her."

I opened one eye, staring up at the cat that—I assumed--had saved me from death. "Red?" I gasped.

* * *

**The next chapter was going to be in Poet's perspective completely, but then I changed my mind. The next chapter will be in Storm's perspective completely, followed by a chapter in solely Poet's perspective. Pretty nifty, huh? **

**By the way, does anyone know what movie Scrubs' Twolegs were watching? I don't know what you'll get if you do, but I'm sure I'll figure it out! You'll probably have to ask for something. And please, I beg of you, don't ask for spoilers. I will say no instantly, even though it wouldn't be nice of me to do so. **

**However, there are only two people entilted to spoilers, and they are my betas. I don't mean to sound so cruel, but that's the way it is. **


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey, friends! It's certainly been awhile hasn't it? It's not my fault. Entirely. Anyway, this chapter was edited by Unlulzworthy, and I thank her a lot for dealing with my horrible grammatical issues. Anyway, you probably want me to shut up now, so I will.**

**Reviewer Replies: **

**anonymous: Thanks!**

**Jay-la (Chapter 1): Actually, I was thinking of you when I named her.**

**Jay-la (Chapter 2): Very dramatic, indeed.**

**Jay-la (Chapter 3): Thanks. Also, thanks for boosting my review count.**

**Aleckette: Um. Soon. Yeah, about that. Anyway, no I haven't deleted this story (obviously). **

**Natz: Haha, thanks. Briar and Rose don't really come back into the story until the epilogue. Yup. That's when they come back. **

**Natz (Chapter 2): Yeah, that is really hard to say, but I don't read my stuff out loud. I probably should. **

**Natz (Chapter 3): You and your . . . skimming.**

**Golde: Nope. And since you're the only one to guess, I can tell you all the answer: It was History of the World Part I. Such a funny movie. Go watch it. **

**AD: Awesome. :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors. Or RvB. And you'll see why I say RvB. **

* * *

Red ignored me, looking around the clearing at the cats that lay on the battlefield. "Hope, Breeze," he mewed, flicking his tail. "I think there should be a few more cats out there. At least, I hope."

"Red, what's going on?" I asked wearily, hardly believing that my dead brother was standing before me. Was I dead? Were these StarClan warriors coming to get me? I winced as I began to feel my wounds again.

"My name isn't Red anymore," my brother's eyes flashed. "It's Seeker." He roughly grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and placed me on my paws. Three she-cats, two gray and one white, came up behind him. "Are you all right?" he asked me. I could barely answer. My brother was alive.

"He's pretty scratched up, and he probably has a chill from being left here in the rain. But you should live," the white she-cat told me, and then proceeded to look over the darkened battlefield, where only a few bodies lay, scattered across the respective borders. "Hope and Breeze are still looking for more survivors. What a mess this battle must've been, eh, kid?"

It took a minute before I even realized she was talking to me. "Yeah, there were a lot of cats here," I said vacantly. I was confused--my head swam, and I just wanted to fall back asleep. "Why are we looking for other survivors?"

"We found one!" a gray she-cat yowled. Red, err, Seeker, abandoned my side and bounded over to the speckled she-cat that had first ambushed me. "This fight wasn't even anything important," the gray she-cat muttered, sinking her claws into the softened earth. "Just for some territory."

"Hope," the white she-cat that had inspected my wounds said sternly. "We'll deal with this later. We've got to get them out of here before the patrols come to retrieve the bodies." I wondered who else was dead.

"Yes, Glass," Hope mewed, tugging at a tuft of grass. "It doesn't look like many others lived. We're gonna have to make this quick. There's a patrol coming, I think from RiverClan." She scented the air again. "Yes, definitely from RiverClan."

"Can you stand up?" Glass asked the speckled she-cat, who barely looked like she could move. I doubted she could move, but the brave speckled she-cat looked determined to at least try. I had to hand it to her.

"Glass, if she can't move, we're gonna have to leave her," Seeker said sadly. The white she-cat opened her mouth to respond, but he placed his tail on her shoulder and shook his head. "We can't risk being spotted. We're supposed to be dead, remember?"

"It's so hard to forget that we're dead," Glass growled sarcastically. "I'm just trying to prevent more deaths in the forest if I can." Her white fur bristled angrily, and her green eyes flashed at my brother.

"There's no reason to--," my brother began.

"They're just going to kill her! That's what almost happened to _him_!" Glass growled, flicking her tail in my direction. I shivered. Would my Clanmates really have killed me if they had found me here, lying amongst the dead? I tried to banish the images from my mind, but all I could see was Poet's tabby body lying against the cold earth.

"I can stand," the speckled she-cat said faintly, pushing herself to her paws. She swayed slightly and had to be supported by the two gray she-cats. Furtively, Seeker glanced around the clearing, seeing if there were any more survivors left. "There's no one left," the speckled she-cat whispered. Seeker stared at her. "They're all dead. All of them."

Seeker's face was impassive as he mewed, "Move out." He beckoned us into the darkness. I could see him shaking as we returned into the bushes, and he quietly asked Breeze, the other gray she-cat, "How did I do?"

"For your first retrieval?" Breeze tilted her head to one side. "Pretty good. You might lose points because of your reaction to seeing your brother, but I don't think Origin really expected much else . . . but we can ask Willow. I bet she's proud of you."

"She's been my mentor for a day," Seeker muttered, looking at his paws. I listened intently to their conversation. Where were we going? Who was Willow? Who was Origin? "I didn't expect my first retrieval to be this early," he admitted.

The other gray she-cat came up beside him. The one to his right had gold eyes, and the one to his left had blue eyes, like a breeze off the water. It occurred to me then, that the gray she-cat with the blue eyes was Breeze, and the gray she-cat with the gold eyes was Hope. "You were so close to being a warrior by the time we got to you. What else was Origin gonna do? Retrain you?" Seeker said nothing, and she added, "Now this little squirt--," I could only assume she was referring to me, " --is probably going to end up with some serious training. He looks like he's been out a day, maybe less."

"Today was my apprentice ceremony," I mewed quietly. The speckled she-cat looked thoroughly embarrassed, while Hope and Breeze looked disgusted. "I don't understand," I meowed, confused at their looks of scorn and abhorrence. "What's the big deal? Lots of other apprentices get sent out to battle on their first day of training. It's a good way to see if they're strong or not."

Seeker looked extremely embarrassed, and refused to look at me. The speckled she-cat seemed to agree with me. Breeze mewed, "Apprentices should be allowed to grow and find their own strengths. That way, an apprentice can grow to become strong, and work on their weaknesses, instead of being killed before they even understand what being a part of Clan life is about."

"But that would take too long!" I protested, not understanding why these cats were so against the way I knew life. "If an apprentice was allowed to grow, a Clan may have already been conquered by then, and the apprentice slaughtered. It's better off to see where an apprentice stands. If they get through their first battle, then they should be allowed to continue their training."

"It's that kind of thinking that's taking you away from your Clan," Hope mewed nonchalantly. "It's that kind of thinking that's gonna allow your friend Poet to be remembered in ShadowClan history, while you were left for dead on a battlefield."

"Won't they see paw prints leading away from here?" I mewed defensively, savagely trying to defend my way of life. "They'll come find me, once they realize I'm alive. They'll come after me. They will!" The last part was a nearly a wail of desperation. They'd come after me. Poet would make them.

"No, they won't," Seeker mewed grimly. His voice was cold, and the look in his eyes became harsh. I wanted to shy away from ground swayed beneath my paws. "They won't care because they only care about the strongest, so they can defend themselves from WindClan. No one will care that there's a tiny margin you may be alive. You're dead to them, and you're better off, being 'dead'."

Glass piped up from behind us, "As much as I love the intense discussion of whose way of life is more correct--ours or theirs--we're forgetting formation." Hope seemed to glide to the right, as Breeze seemed to glide over the forest floor to her left. Seeker picked up his pace a little so he was clearly in front. "Much better," Glass mewed, looking more relaxed.

As we headed further in our journey, which shortly after our argument wasn't that far at all, I began to scent many other cats. The distinct smell of each Clan seemed to be gone, and all four scents seemed to fade into one overwhelming scent that made my head spin. With a grimace, I realized that I would stick out like a sore paw. We headed into a clearing that was much bigger than any part of the forest that I had ever seen. It was a stretch of grassy terrain that lead to several caves. I saw kits playing outside the den that was closest to me. I looked up, where a ridge lead into a spacious cave. Standing on the ridge was a cat that looked like . . . well, he didn't look like any cat I knew, but he reminded me of Scorched. I shook my head and looked again. The cat was gone.

A black cat sauntered up to me, grinning. Or at least, that's what it seemed like. His mouth was stretched out, and his face now held the air of a delighted smirk. "Fresh meat, eh?" the cat said with a raspy growl. "Shouldn't last too long here. He looks like he barely belongs out of the nursery."

"Enough, Joker," a stern voice said. A huge golden tom came up to me. He was followed by a brown she-cat, a calico she-cat, and a dark brown tom, who were all looking at Seeker. "Glass, you're the most, diplomatic--," the calico she-cat snorted at these words, "--of the cats that went on this mission. What do you have to say about Seeker's retrieval?"

"Well, considering that there were dead cats from his former Clan lying all around him, I'd say he did fine," Glass said with a nod. The brown she-cat looked at me, her blue eyes looking from me to Seeker. "Oh, by the way, the little gray one, Storm, is Seeker's brother."

"_You're_ Seeker's brother?" The black cat, Joker, howled with laughter. I tried not to flinch at the laugh, which tore at my ears like claws. "Forget a little while; you won't last a day!" He howled again. I growled deeply, unsheathing my claws, when the calico cat slipped up next to me. Her warm feel distracted me, and the scent she carried took my attention away from the black cat. It wasn't like Poet's, but it was certainly . . . distracting. In a good way.

"Joker," the golden tom spoke again, his words cutting through the air. I tried very hard to repress a flinch, as did every cat near me. Joker had stopped laughing, and was now looking mildly amused. "Get Origin out of his den. Tell him that there are new arrivals here." Joker trotted toward the cave that overlooked the clearing.

Seeker approached the brown cat that had given me a questioning look. She affectionately licked his ear. "Good job, for your first retrieval!" she purred. Seeker beamed and looked extremely proud of himself. "You kept your cool, and you didn't betray how scared you were. I'm gonna talk to Origin about your warrior ceremony . . . . "

My brother and his mentor turned and began discussing events. I tried to follow him, but the pretty calico she-cat stopped me. "You have to lay down, or Glass will have my head!" she mewed, pushing me toward the nearby den where I'd seen kits playing by earlier. "Now, stay still," she ordered, pointing to a patch of moss with her tail and trying to sound stern. I lay in the moss, giving her a bemused look. With a sigh, she realized it wasn't working, and she flicked my ears with her tail. "I'm Harlequin," she said. I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, adding, "Don't. You'll get your new name soon."

New name? I stared at her in utter confusion for a moment. I was so confused. Why was I here? Why were they changing my name? I stared blankly at Harlequin, hoping the answers would just pour out of her. She gave me a strange look, tilting her head to one side, as if I had grown another tail.

Glass accompanied the speckled she-cat into the den. "I see you've met Harlequin," Glass mewed, looking from me to Harlequin. "She's my apprentice." I felt a strange twinge of disappointment when I heard that. "Harlequin, before you let Origin in here, tell him that I have concerns about mentorship for . . ." Glass tried not to look at me as she said it, but I knew she was talking about me. The speckled she-cat definitely didn't need a mentor. She was a warrior. Harlequin nodded and dashed out of the den.

The next moment, the cat that I had seen earlier entered the den. He was a big brown tabby tom. I tried to flatten myself against the moss. He looked at me and purred. "So, you're Storm? I've heard a lot about you. Yes, you are Seeker's brother. No doubt in my mind at all." Behind Origin, Harlequin was shaking her head, a huge grin on her face. No doubt she was laughing at me. "And you?" Origin turned to the RiverClan cat.

"Sun," the she-cat mewed confidently. Origin nodded, turning away. "If you're gonna rename me, can you not name me something stupid like Church or Caboose?" Sun asked quickly. I stared at her, utterly confused, while Origin simply walked out of the den. "What?" Sun asked defensively. "I knew these two blue-gray toms once, named Church and Caboose. They were idiots! I don't know why anyone would ever like them."

"At least they didn't have stupid names like Grif and Simmons," the she-cat that had been speaking with my brother emerged at the mouth of the den. "I'd rather hang out with Church and Caboose than Grif and Simmons. They were cool, and they weren't stupid gingers."

"They're all dead now, so what does it matter?" a cross voice asked from the entrance to the cave. An old gray she-cat came into the den. "Personally, they were both idiots, so I don't understand what the argument is about!"

"Do you need something, Purple?" Glass asked curtly. The old gray she-cat shook her head and stalked away. "Do you need anything, Willow?" Glass addressed the brown she-cat. Willow shook her head, and walked away, muttering something about mouse-brained red pelts. Sun glared angrily at her as she walked out of the den.

"What was that all about?" I asked, looking from Sun, to the retreating forms of Willow and Purple.

"It's a RiverClan thing," Glass explained. "You don't want to get into it. Now, if you could stand up, Origin is probably going to do your naming ceremonies pretty soon." As she said it, a yowl sounded out throughout the camp. The words seemed garbled in my ears, but Harlequin and Glass escorted Sun and I outside of the den.

I wanted to start running and never look back. I didn't belong here, and I didn't want to be here. Why did these cats have such an interest in me? Why were they changing my name? With a sigh, I looked around, trying to get out. Until Harlequin flicked me with her tail, and pointed forward. She smiled at me, and I had the confidence to go forward.

If Harlequin could accept me, I rationalized; maybe I would fit in with these strange cats in time. "Why are they changing our names?" I whispered to Harlequin, half demanding an explanation.

"Your name is a symbol of your old life," Harlequin muttered under her breath. "He'll ask you to cut loose all ties with your former life, and your new name will symbolize your new life with us."

"But why?" I asked.

"You're here because they saved you from dying in with the Clans," Harlequin said bluntly. "It's what we do. We save the 'weak' ones, and we make them strong. Maybe we're not an official Clan, but we're definitely a family, and we need to protect our current and future family members." Adding an afterthought, "We operate like a Clan. There's a hierarchy, and we have mentors and apprentices, so it's not much different from what you know."

"Are you finished?" Origin asked amiably, startling us both. Many cats were watching us, including Joker, who was eyeing me with malicious delight. With a jolt, I realized this would be my second apprentice ceremony of the day. Fighting down the bile, I looked up at Origin, who started speaking again, "Sun of RiverClan, step forward."

Sun did, looking rather apprehensive about her name. For irony's sake, I hoped her name would be Church or Caboose. She seemed to know what I was thinking and gave me a heated glare. I merely looked at my paws, looking as innocent as possible.

"Do you promise to uphold the laws and traditions of the Underground?" Origin growled. She nodded. "Do you understand that this realize no interaction with your former Clan, unless there is a retrieval?" Sun nodded again, looking saddened as she said so. "Then, consider your old life no more. From this day forward, your new name will be Tawny. StarClan, if this cat is to join you, accept her as Tawny."

"Tawny! Tawny!" chanted the rest of the cats . . . with the exception of Willow, who just glared at Tawny. Tawny stepped backward, and Origin beckoned me forward. The cats fell silent and watched me intently. I hated the feeling of their eyes on my fur.

"Underground, we are hear to name this new apprentice," Origin began. "Storm of ShadowClan, we will train you in the ways of the Underground. This means you must promise to abandon all contact with your former Clan, unless there is a retrieval. Do you agree to these terms?"

"Yes," I said hoarsely, trying to comprehend all that was happening. I didn't want my life to change, but this is how I was going to survive.**. **I would live on for Poet . . . yet, as I tried to hold on to Poet's image in my mind's eye, all I could think of was Harlequin. A wave of guilt washed over me, and I knew I had to see Poet one more time.

"Very well," Origin mewed. "From now on, you will be known as Peasant." I remembered earlier in the day at Scrubs's garden, the phrases that Scorched had translated for us. I remembered the disdain on the Twoleg's faces as they said the word 'peasant'. "I will be your mentor."

"But why?" Many cats asked, looking to one another. _Was it that strange for a leader to mentor an apprentice?_ I thought to myself. A few cats gave me a strange look, and I tried not to hide away. First, Scorched, now Origin. I didn't want to be the center of attention. Surely, there was another warrior who could mentor me?

"If we are to retain the traditions of our ancestors," Origin mewed sternly, "it is my responsibility, as the only cat without an apprentice, to mentor Peasant. Surely you've all noticed the great influx of apprentices we've received." The cats fell silent, without any further protests. Clearly, they had not noticed. I had to admire Origin's hold over his Clan. Organization. Whatever it was.

"There's Silent," a voice in the back of the crowd mewed, heavy scorn in his voice, as if there was really no other point to bring the fact up, other than to mock Silent. A dark brown tom with green eyes flicked his tail in the direction of another cat. This cat was a gray tom with dark blue eyes, which glared hatefully in the direction of the dark brown tom. "What have you got to say about that?" the speaker sneered.

"Enough, Bracken!" Origin yowled, his voice echoing around the clearing. Many cats were muttering to themselves, casting mutinous glances back at Bracken, who was sitting with his tail curled over his paws, as if he was pleased with the chaos he had started. I looked over at Silent, who was glaring angrily at Bracken. "You will take Peasant in as one of your own, understood?" Origin growled, looking over his 'Clan' fiercely.

"Peasant! Peasant!" the cats cried as Origin leapt down from his perch and touched his nose with mine. I felt disgusted and ashamed, listening to the name that, as far as I knew, had an undesirable meaning. Many unfamiliar cats crowded around me to congratulate me, but it had no meaning until Harlequin trotted up to me, her amber eyes sparkling with delight.

I tried to give her a grin, and she tilted her head to the side. Beckoning me with her tail, I slipped out of the group and to her side. "What's up?" she asked me softly, licking my ear. For a moment, I was so tempted to spill out the hatred for my name, my confusion about being here, and how guilty I felt for being so comfortable with her, when deep down, I knew that Poet needed my company.

"I want to go back to ShadowClan," I murmured softly. She opened her mouth to object, and I added quickly, "Not to stay. I just want to see someone . . . one last time." She looked extremely doubtful. "I'd really like it if you came with me," I murmured softly. "I don't want to be by myself when I see her--I mean, say good-bye."

Harlequin looked at me sadly, a look I never wanted to see in her eyes again. "It's against the code," she murmured quietly. Looking around to make sure no one was watching us, she added, "But I think I can get you there. It's not too far, especially if you know the way to go. You swear not to tell?"

"Of course," I said, flicking her tail with my ear. She seemed to brighten up a bit. "Lead the way." I bowed, allowing her to dart in front of me. I bounded after her, the mere joy of being in her company seeming to take away the pain in my wounds. Or was it the hope that I was going to see Poet? Either way, I was happy.

It had stopped raining, and the moon shone down us as we ran through the hills of WindClan territory. At one point, I was feeling particularly playful and I bowled her over, batting at her playfully. She smiled back at me, swatting at my muzzle while purring. I got off of her, and we kept going. Still, I couldn't help but think how nice it was to be in her company, and wondering if I should be getting that close, if she really was a medicine cat.

"We're here." Her voice became lighter than the breeze that was on the wind. I wondered if I would learn how to do that. There was a rustle nearby, and I scented the air. It was Poet. Quickly I peered through the bushes, just watching her in the moonlight. She looked so grief-stricken that I wanted to go comfort her. I took a step forward, and Harlequin slipped in front of me so quickly that I nearly fell over her.

"He's gone," the words came out of Poet's mouth, choked and wavering. I wanted to push past Harlequin so badly. And yet, there was something about Harlequin's presence that kept me rooted to the spot. Maybe it was because she was intoxicating. Or maybe it was because she was bigger than I. I'll never know.

I looked through the bush again. Poet's eyes met mine, and she let out a startled gasp. "Let's go!" hissed Harlequin, pushing me along. Once we were far enough away from ShadowClan territory, I looked over my shoulder in the direction of where I had last seen Poet. "Maybe we shouldn't do that again," Harlequin mewed, butting my shoulder with my head.

I couldn't answer. I was too busy wondering if that would be the last time I would ever see those startling gold eyes again.

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**Is it bad when you start shipping a pairing that won't end up together, and you know it because you write the story? I kinda hope not, because that's what's happening with me. Anyway, uhh, I finished the next chapter, and I'm halfway done with the chapter after that. But I'm not gonna post the next chapter until I'm finished with the chapter I'm working on.**

**No worries though, I seriously am almost done. And I love how fast this story moves. It makes me happy. **


	5. Chapter 4

**A/N: I totally had this done ages ago, but then I told you guys that I would wait until I was done with the next chapter to post it, but then I forgot about it, and then while looking at the story on this site one day, I realized that I had never made the corrections my beta told me to, and thus, had never posted the new chapter. My bad guys. Uggh, now I have 'My Chick Bad' by Ludacris stuck in my head. So, reviewer replies!**

**Reviewer Replies:**

**Aleckette: Dude, you were like one of two people who reviewed. You're not a bad reviewer in the slightest.**

**Golde:**

**1. Why thanks! I miss you, love.**

**2. Haha, I try. I thought you guys might get a kick out of that!**

**3. In my allegiances that I have on my computer, I have Silver and Gold, and some other...T/D people. **

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I saw him, and I nearly cried out with joy. There he was, Storm, as if he were living. I looked into the bush again. His blue eyes was gone. The rustling of the trees were all that remained. I sighed. It was only because I was thinking of him that those blue eyes had appeared. With a frustrated growl, I returned to the patrol-Ravage, Falcon and Song—were waiting.

Falcon was looking down at a mass of white fur at his paws. Song stood beside him, seeking solace in his fur. Glimmer, Falcon's mate and Song's mother, was dead. The grief in their eyes tore at my heart. "I'll flay those RiverClan scum. What right do they think they have, taking territory from other cats?" Falcon growled, unsheathing his claws. He looked desperately to Ravage, who was shaking his head.

At his paws, I saw the body of Shallow, one of the apprentices. With his paw, he gently closed Shallow's eyes. "There," he said softly, a stark contrast from his normal voice"It almost looks like she's sleeping." Catching my eye, he turned to me and, in his coldest tone, asked, "Poet, did you find Storm's body?"

"It's gone," I reported, trying not to let Ravage see how sad it made me. He simply picked up his daughter's scruff and began heading back toward camp. Falcon picked up the body of his fallen mate and proceeded in the same direction. Song and I were left alone by the border.

"She died," Song said forlornly. "My best friend died. And my _mother_." I tried not to flinch at the agony in the word 'mother'. I knew, if it had been Rain, I would not have felt the same way. But she had lost Shallow, as I had lost Storm. There was nothing I could say to her. I was feeling _that_ pain.

A long moment of passed between us. With a shake of her head, she murmured, "C'mon, we'd better get back to camp. Ravage and Falcon will think we've fallen behind." She darted into the forest, and I followed wordlessly after her, wondering how such a tragedy could have befallen Clan so quickly. I also wondered where Storm was. My heart felt heavy just thinking about him, and I couldn't help but think back to the blue eyes I had seen in the bush.

_No. _I hadn't seen anything. It was just my imagination, the stress of the day playing tricks on my eyes.

Back at camp, Scorched was gathering the Clan together for a meeting. "Who is dead?" he asked, betraying no emotion that could be construed as weak. He reminded me of a rock: sturdy and unchanging.

"Glimmer and Shallow," Ravage reported, his voice containing none of the softness it had moments before. "Also, we couldn't find Storm's body. I assume a fox has taken it."

Rain let out a particularly loud wail. I tried not to glare at my mother. The rest of the Clan was ignoring her.

"Very well," Scorched mewed, not giving Rain so much as a glance. He acted as if she were no more than a light breeze. "Bird and Song, will you step forward please?" They did so. Song's eyes looked bright again, and I wondered if there was some two-heartbeat mourning period rule I didn't know about. "Since Glimmer has died, you have been left without mentors. Falcon, you have been left without an apprentice. I trust you will guide these two until they reach their warrior status."

Falcon touched noses with Song and Bird, respectively. The Clan said nothing. A cold wind swept through the clearing. My mother saw this as a perfect opportunity to get "How could you ignore him?" Rain howled at Scorched. ...Pardon? o.o Something's missing. xD "You knew his mother and his father, and yet you cast him aside as if he were no more than the moss that lines your den!"

I stared at Rain, intense hatred coursing through me. Of course it didn't matter that I had almost died. Of course it didn't matter that I came home safely. It never mattered. I was, once again, second best to Storm. She was throwing a hysterical fit, just because Storm never came home from the battle. Storm wasn't even her son. I narrowed my eyes at her, nearly missing Scorched's reply.

"You are entitled to a one day mourning period," Scorched growled, unsheathing his claws. Rain glared hatefully up at Scorched, but to my relief, said nothing more. "That's all," he addressed the rest of the Clan. They went to their respective mourning places. I was about to head into the den when Scorched mewed, "Poet, I want a word."

Gulping nervously, I walked slowly into his den. Was I going to be penalized because I didn't bring Storm's body back? Was Scorched going to blame me for Rain's outburst? As I stared into his eyes, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. "Yes?" I asked as calmly as I could, trying not to betray the mess of emotions I felt inside.

"How are you feeling?" Scorched asked conversationally. Yes, it was more along the lines of him asking a warrior an apprentice how training was going. I didn't understand the question. How was I _feeling_? Of all the questions in the world, why ask that one?

With a jolt of realization, I knew I was being tested, to see if I had the 'appropriate' response. I tried to remember the masks Ravage and Falcon had put up when they returned to camp. "I'm fine," I said with a light flick of my tail, as if I were talking about the weather. "I'm fine, thank you, Scorched."

"You're not fine," he replied. His whiskers twitched. It annoyed me slightly, to see him so amused. Still, I tried my best to hide it.

"But you do an excellent job of hiding it!" he continued. "Much better than after your brother's first battle." He looked at me to see if my reaction had changed before he continued, "You see, Poet, emotions can help us, and emotions can hinder us. It's at times like these, during grief, when we are at our weakest. It is our responsibility and our duty to our Clan to lock those feelings away so that we remain strong. Do you understand?" I nodded. "Good," he mewed. "You may go."

Feeling relieved, I trotted out of the den with my tail raised up high. Crossing the clearing, though, I bumped into Oak, and she let out a hiss of pain. "I'm sorry!" I cried, doing my best to help her to her paws. "Are you all right?" With a pinch of annoyance, I wondered what Oak was doing out of the medicine cat den.

"Aww, it's all right," Oak said in her most easy-going manner. I looked at her face. She was definitely a master at hiding her emotions. Something in her eyes, though, gave away that everything wasn't all right. "You could be a dear of a thing and help me back to the medicine cat den."

I looked at the bodies that were by the medicine cat den. I tried not to think of how Storm's body should be among them. With an angry shake of my head, I silently berated myself for letting my guard down. I had to be strong. For my Clan's sake, if not for my own. "Here," I muttered to Oak once we got to the den.

"What's the matter?" Oak asked me sweetly**. **Looking into her green eyes, I found myself spilling the story of Storm's death: how it was my fault, and how I had seen his blue eyes watching me, even though I knew he was dead.

"I am I going crazy?" I asked her desperately once I was done. Oak looked lost in thought, as if she were on the verge of telling me something but some invisible force was holding her back. "I can't let this effect me," I nearly cried out. "But I just need to know what it was before I can leave it alone. He's dead, and I need to leave it at that."

"He wouldn't have been in days past," Oak muttered, mostly to herself. I tilted my head to the side. She looked at me and said, "Tell me, Poet, have you ever heard of the Underground?" Dark clouds covered the half of the moon, and part of the den was cast in shadow. I could no longer see Oak, but I knew she could see me, standing as I was in the moon's light.

"What's the Underground?" I asked eagerly, tucking my paws underneath me. The dark clouds had passed, and the light in the den was returned to its normal state. I was practically quivering with anticipation. I could hear the blood roaring in my ears.

"It's a myth. Well, not really a myth," Oak began, setting comfortably into her moss. I was already confused. "When the purge happened, many cats were left without homes, and they tried to band together. It didn't work. In order to keep the Clans running, the leaders at the time decided to sort through their Clans and determine which cats were strong, and which cats were weak. As you know, the weak cats were killed. Well, some were."

My eyes grew as wide as full moons, urging her to go on. "What do you mean?" I asked urgently, nearly leaping up out of the moss. "Why weren't all the cats killed?" There were so many questions that threatened to spill out. I fidgeted in the moss. Oak smirked at my anticipation, and waited a few more moments before she began to speak again.

"Some cats were left barely alive. In order to survive, they banded together, or so the tale goes, to create a safe haven for cats that had been deemed 'weak' by their clanmates. It started out in the tunnels near ThunderClan territory. That's where the name 'Underground' comes from, y'know," Oak told me, nearly purring as I continued to listen to her story with unwavering attention. "But soon, their little operation was getting too big. They decided to leave the forest, but would stay close by so that if cats needed them, they would be there."

"But how did they know that cats needed their help?" I asked, my eyes never leaving Oak's face. Hope began to soar within me. Perhaps Storm was alive. Perhaps he was with this infamous Underground. The guilt in my chest decreased slightly.

"They put spies in each of the Clans," Oak mewed. "Anyway, that's what they did before they supposedly died out." My spirits crashed. "The Underground was wiped out. But they went away with the promise that, one day, they would return to seek revenge on the cats that had put them in that place."

I looked down at my paws, my guilt and shame washing over me. I couldn't believe I had placed so much hope in a mouse-brained story for kits. Storm was dead, and I had to accept that. _I suppose that's part of being strong. _With a sigh, I pushed myself up to my paws, and dragged myself to the apprentice's den. "Thanks for the story," I said dully.

"I don't know why you're so upset, dear," Oak called after me. "It's just a story, after all." She didn't realize how high my hopes had gotten when I listened to her. Still, I had to wonder what her purpose was in doing that.

For the third time that night, I headed toward the apprentice's den. Curling up in a patch of moss, my last thought before drifting to sleep was that if everything had gone normally, Storm would have been curled up right beside me.

Two dawns after that fateful night, I awoke to Scorched standing outside of the apprentice's den. He was talking in a low voice to Bird and Song. It occurred to me that they would be warriors soon, and I would be left in the den, alone. Yawning, I stepped outside of the den to grab some fresh-kill. Bird instantly joined my side, as did Song.

"Scorched says he wants you to go out by the graves and see if Rain is still there," Bird informed me, looking kind of worried. Song had a small smirk on her face. I was confused, as if they knew something I didn't. When Bird saw the look on my face, she added in a low voice, "Listen up, 'cause Scorched doesn't us to tell you this."

"Don't tell her," Song said urgently, looking around. "It takes all the progress out of it. After all, she may still be a weak one yet." Sliding up to me, she said slyly, "It's why Storm risked his pretty little neck for yours, isn't it?" I let out a low growl, and my hackles began to rise. "Relax, kitten," Song said, giving me a look of disdain. "I wouldn't waste my time on you."

She walked away, beckoning for Bird to follow her. Bird looked at me, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something. I waited for her to speak, but she turned away, and bounded after Falcon and Song.

Walking out of camp, I walked to the small clearing were all dead cats were buried. Not to my surprise, Rain was sitting beside a small mound of dirt, her head buried in her chest fur. I cleared my throat pointedly, hoping she would notice me. She didn't move. "Rain," I mewed loudly. She still didn't move. "Rain," I growled.

Moving slowly, as if she were in a dream, her head finally jerked up. "Bark?" she asked confusedly. I wanted to wail out. My mother didn't recognize me. I wasn't good enough for her. I could never live up to her wanted me to be exactly like my older brothers. Or Storm, who was always the center of her attention, because he was always so sweet and endearing, despite his trauma.

I wasn't like any of them. I wasn't smart as smart as Bark, or as strong as Rock, nor was I sweet, like Storm. I was slowly becoming detached from the world around me. I had always been distant, even toward Storm. And now he was . . . I couldn't bring myself to think about it. "Never mind," I muttered quietly, turning around.

"Bark," my mother called after me. "Don't forget to clean your fur. Today is your apprentice ceremony! I may not make it. Storm has been a little out of it since Sky died, and StarClan knows Poet hasn't been helping . . ." At these words, I sprinted away. I didn't want to hear anymore. I couldn't hear anymore. Perhaps it was better for me to be distant. I wouldn't have to feel anything when I heard things like that.

To my horror, Bird had been hiding behind me the entire time. "Poet!" she called after me. I didn't want to stop. Blindly, I bounded through the forest. "Poet!" she cried again, bounding after me. She nearly crashed into me as I stopped short.

"What do you want?" I asked coolly.

"Scorched asked me to follow you," she explained. I narrowed my eyes at her, so wanting to tear her limb from limb. "It's apart of your apprentice evaluation." I was so caught off guard. My eyes widened in surprise, and my claws became sheathed. With a flick of my tail, I motioned for her to go on.

"Well, there are three parts to an apprentice evaluation," she explained. "There's fighting, hunting and . . ." She stopped short, unsure of how to phrase the rest. Bird looked at me, then looked at her paws, then looked at me again.

"And?" I prompted.

"Killing weak ones," she muttered. "Scorched wasn't sure how much you knew about apprentice evaluations, so he sent me to make sure you weren't warning Rain." Bird suddenly looked shocked, as she realized she had given away my task to me.

"Scorched wants me to kill Rain?" I asked, an uneasy feeling in my stomach.

She nodded. "Please don't tell him I told you," Bird begged me. "I was only supposed to come watch you, nothing else. Oh, if he finds out that I've messed up, I'll be in so much trouble." I put my tail on her shoulder, in an attempt to her calm her down. "Will you say anything?" she asked me fretfully. I shook my head. "Oh thank you! You're a real life saver." For a moment, I wondered how literal the term 'life saver' was.

With a shrug, I began walking back to camp. To be honest, it didn't really matter to me if Bird lived or died. Suddenly, it hardly mattered that Storm died. Nothing mattered. In order to be a successful warrior, I would be cold and calculated. I wouldn't dare care for another cat in my Clan. Care only lead to attachment. Attachment would eventually lead to pain. Emotional pain was unnecessary.

As I expected, Scorched was waiting for me at the mouth of the entrance to camp. "Walk with me," he ordered. I walked beside him, waiting for him to speak. "Is Rain still at the graves?" he asked. I nodded, afraid to say anything. The bile rose in my throat.

"I . . ." I spoke quietly. I didn't even know what I wanted to say. I just needed to say something. I was trying to train myself to become more calculated. Timid was a word I would have to banish from my dictionary. "I'm ready for whatever you need me to do," I said firmly.

Scorched looked mildly surprised. "Your mother is weak. As you know, weak ones do not survive long in our environment. We must be ever strong and vigilant. Any weak cats will only bring us down," he began.

"You want me to kill Rain," I said flatly. I wasn't in the mood to hear a speech filled with empty words. Scorched seemed more than mildly surprised this time around. A full moment of silence passed before I spoke again. "When?"

"Tonight. No later than moonhigh, no earlier than sundown" he answered, staring at me as if I had two tails. "I will be watching you to make sure you don't try and help her escape. Understand?" I nodded. Where was there for her to go anyway? The so-called Underground didn't even exist. Or . . . did it?

"Scorched?" I asked, as he began to turn away from me. He paused, and looked at me contemplatively. "What's the Underground?" A dark, menacing look passed over his face. I tried to look at him straight in the eye, but it was hard to ignore the tremor of fear that shook me.

"A legend," he growled, his amber eyes blazing with anger. "I never want to hear you bring it up again, do you understand?" I could say nothing. I was absolutely riveted by the fury and power in his eyes. "Do you understand?" I nodded. "Good," Scorched snapped, and disappeared into the underbrush.

There would be another time to contemplate Scorched's bizarre reaction to the Underground. I had more things to worry about-like how I was going to lure Rain away so I could fulfill my apprentice evaluation. It was hard, though. I could only think about Storm, and what he would say about it. With a gasp of realization, a smile of delight settled on my features.

I had my plan.

After the sun began to disappear behind the treetops, I snuck out of camp to find Rain. It wasn't hard. She was still in the same place as before. "Rain," I whispered. She looked at me, with that blank, unfocused stare. "Rain, it's Poet."

"Poet," she said distractedly. I wanted to sneer at her, make her feel miserable. I knew that couldn't, for the sake of the masquerade, but I wanted to.

"I think Storm is alive," I told her excitedly. In my mind's eye, I could see the twitch of Scorched's amused whiskers. Rain looked at me, excitement and life flooding back into her eyes. She had taken the bait. Already, I felt very accomplished. "I think he's joined the Underground."

"That's not possible," Rain said sternly. "The Underground is a myth."

"No, it's real," I told her urgently. "He's going to meet me, really soon, to tell me what it's like. Come with me and see him!" I began to head into the forest, waiting to hear the paw steps behind me. As the earth rustled beneath her paws, I smirked, knowing my plan would come to fruition. She was just so easy to manipulate, it was almost pitiful. She wanted so badly to believe that Storm was alive. I know I would, but solely to assuage my guilt. Thatdidn't make sense to me. xD like, at all.

I broke into a run, knowing Rain wasn't far behind me. I skidded into the clearing where, two nights before, I thought I'd seen Storm's eyes. Rain came in behind me, dashing to the exact bush where I thought I had seen him. Her desperation made me want to laugh. But rage coursed through me instead. I knew that if our positions were switched, and Storm was standing here instead of me, she wouldn't be searching, hoping so frantically.

This rage seemed to clear my mind, leaving my sole purpose in tact. With a swift slash, I scored her chest. She crumpled to the ground with a cry of pain. Rain looked up at me, her eyes filled with sadness and confusion. "Well," I said, a cold smirk on my face. "I finally got your attention, didn't I?" Her eyes widened, knowing what was going to happen next. Without even waiting for a response, I lifted my paw and tore it across her throat. She let out a gargled cry, and her head fell to the ground. I watched, as the crimson river seemed to flow from her neck. I could only hear the rustling of the trees. Scorched came to sit beside me. "Well done," he murmured. "It's time to go back to camp."

As I headed out of the clearing, I looked over my shoulder at my mother's body. _Well, I finally got your attention. _The words rang out an unnatural level in my head. "Didn't I?" I asked softly. I shook my head firmly, trying to clear my head of that gentle tone and my regretful thoughts. That part of me was gone. It was lying in the clearing beside my mother, drowning in a pool of blood.

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**The next time you see Poet, she will be a full-fledged bamf. Or, rather, the next time I make reference of her, she's gonna be a bamf. I have such wonderful plans for Poet. She's gonna be an amazing character. **


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